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Thursday, June 17, 2010

Projectile

How is it that a tiny baby can straight up projectile vomit on my chest and then pretend nothing happened?

That's just what happened this morning at 5am. Yes, 5am. Toph woke up an hour earlier than usual so I was already wondering what his deal was. But I picked him up (out of his bassinet, no less...hubs told me there was nothing wrong with letting him stay in it until he's three months, which is Saturday...so, that's what we're doing) and fed him on one side. He ate pretty fervently so I started to wonder if this isn't the 3 month growth spurt all those experts talk about.

He finishes and I pick him up to burp him and he does a very terrifying cough (never heard that one before) and I pull him back to look at him.

He then proceeds to shoot undigested breast milk from his mouth, where it lands on my chest, pillow and headboard.

Neat.

Of course, I don't care one single bit about any of that stuff because he has never actually shot breastmilk from his mouth before. So, I say "Oh my God!" and at that point, hubs wakes up, and yes, he does show some initial concern about the amount of breastmilk that's all over our 500 thread count sheets. Then he sees my face and of course, his concern switches to the baby.

He says, "What's wrong?" And I say, in my best telenovela, end-of-the-world voice, "This baby is sick!" I should have added an "Ay, Dios Mio!" in there for good measure, but again, too concerned about my child.

So, I take him to his room to mop him off, change his PJs and take his temp. I strip him down and what does he start doing? Cooing, smiling, talking to me. Hubs comes in at that point and says, "Well, he looks fine to me." And I have to agree, but what just happened Toph?

Hubs said it might have been the spicy corn-cilantro salsa I had in my Chipotle burrito a few hours before. He may be right, but all I know is that I had breastmilk vomit pooled in my camisole and was in no mood for speculation. I had hubs take care of clean up and I went and sponged off. Baby boy nursed like a champ on the other side, no vomit afterward and then fell right back asleep, as if nothing had just happened.

I, however, could not fall back asleep. So, I am in my living room, drinking coffee, watching my baby sleep through the monitor and marveling at how much I have changed as a person in the last year.

A year ago today, had someone or something vomited on me like that, I would have lost my mind. And subsequently, my lunch. I do NOT vomit. I just don't do it...there were times during my pregnancy where it took every ounce of my being not to vomit, but I abhor it so much that I was always able to talk myself out of it. This morning it's not such a big deal; I have a sneaking suspicion a lot more (and worse) will happen to me down the road.

But still Toph, I mean, you just projectiled your first breakfast all over me and then you're going to smile about it? Coo at me? Kick your little legs like you do when you're bright eyed and bushy tailed? Baby, you didn't get that from me. :)